Tribe SK breaks out in Columbia, has eye on West Coast

By Blake Arambula
Edited by Kimi Timmers
Date Posted: April 15, 2009   

   In the middle of the afternoon, atop the Blossom Street parking garage -- a sprawling, multistoried lot -- three men are frozen in positions that seem to defy gravity. The sky is a vibrant, clear blue and it contrasts against their bodies, which hang suspended upside down, feet stretched toward the heavens. 

       Lavell Marshall, who goes by "Shaolin," dons tight yellow pants, which he jokingly refers to as "honey mustard." Beside him, Aaron "DW" White poses, a brown fedora the only thing between his head and the hard cement. Bryan "Ballistik" Wilson is nearby, keeping his feet airborne while the laces of his blue Keds dangle down.

      These men make up three-fourths of Tribe SK, a local dance performance troupe with hopes and expectations that extend beyond the local realm. Formed originally as "Street Kannibalz" during their high school years, the group has evolved into its current form, keeping the "SK" as a look to the past while adding "Tribe" to represent a unique bond that they, as well as fourth member Nelly Marshall, all share.

      "The group was started about four years ago or so with this guy named Yoon Suk, Trae, Dragon and myself," Lavell Marshall said. "They knew some b-boys that were here from California, so we went to watch them and from then on fell in love with the whole b-boy and hip-hop culture."The members call part of what they do "b-boying," a style of acrobatic dancing also called "breaking" that mixes complex footwork with spinning and tumbling, usually to funk or hip-hop music. Yet while the troupe does incorporate many of these techniques, much of what Tribe SK does is improvisational.

       Wilson fell in love with  hip-hop culture in high school as well.

      "Me and Lavell had an English class together, and during a class project in the computer lab, I noticed him on a b-boy website," Wilson said. "We started to talk and I thought b-boying was the coolest thing ever. From that moment is when I knew I wanted to break."

      Back downtown, the troupe finally stirs from  its frozen state and begins freestyle dancing. Here there are no thumping bass lines, no flashing lights and no gimmicks. Their sound system is a laptop with speakers that aren't loud enough. Their dance floor is the rough concrete that tears at their clothes when they dance too close to it.

It's not the setting that provides the spectacle, though. It's the dancers themselves.
      Their fluid movements seem to be instinctive, and as they continue shifting their bodies around, they work themselves into a trance-like state.

      This is "soulshifting" or "vibing," a feeling that is a foundation of their routines, White said.

      "It's a naturally good feeling that makes us move the way we do -- almost involuntary," White said. "The feeling is so deep, we believe it comes from the soul, since almost physically we cannot hide this metaphysical feeling or emotion."

      Another foundation that is essential to the group is  its sense of brotherhood. Every time one member refers to another in speech, he calls him "brother," even though only Lavell and Nelly, twins, are related. Still, when the three dancers recall their most influential people in terms of dancing, they are quick to mention each other.

      "If I truly dig deep without being too sentimental, I would have to say my brother, Shaolin," White said. "You won't find too many people that dance like him."

      White said Lavell taught him much about himself without using words, and through their relationship, they have developed a metaphysical connection.

      "He's helped shape my style gradually, and with so much patience," White said. "He's put up with me a lot through thick and thin, emotionally and physically, with time and dedication. 
      "I love that kid, and respect him without bounds."

      Lavell is well aware of the bond between them.

      "Just as I taught him some things, he has taught me and helped me grow as a dancer and as a person," Lavell said. "Spiritually, mentally and physically we have grown together through the years. I've seen him overcome his weaknesses and create godly strengths."

      That bond has led to confidence during performances at Five Points After Five, The Columbia Art Museum, the Richland County Public Library and the University of South Carolina.  The members of the troupe have even traveled to perform during Hot Import nights in Charlotte and at the Funkmaster Flex car show in Charleston.

     But Tribe SK say despite their desire to perform locally, Columbia won't be their final destination.

     The troupe lacks professional credentials, making it harder for Tribe SK to get paid performances.

     "What we do is not particularly respected here, which is primarily why we're moving to the West Coast," White said, adding that people here don't think dancing is a realistic career.

    Once the students  in the troupe finish college, they are heading to California, where the b-boy scene is much more conducive to becoming a professional dance troupe. White has even dropped out of college to pursue dancing full-time, he said.

    Though the competition will be higher in California, trust and a commitment to dancing professionally is what will set Tribe SK apart from other dance troupes, White said.  

   "It's the passion," White said. "People use dancing as something they just want to do right now as a trend or something that seems trendy, but then later they'll realize the trend dies and they want to end it.

  "We want to actually change the world."